


Never Better

by Vacors



Category: Samurai Jack (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 22:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vacors/pseuds/Vacors
Summary: Most robots he fought stayed dead once they were cleaved in half. Now Jack is faced with a choice: get as far away as he could from the assassin or team up with Scaramouche and Neliah, the woman who rebuilt Scaramouche, to destroy the largest beetle drone factor in the area, assuming they can find it.





	Never Better

“Stand down.” The robot merely laughed at the threat. Trying to command the eight foot tall assassin was a woman hardly five feet tall and weaponless as far as Jack could tell. She hardly seemed concerned, standing with both gloved hands tucked casually into her pockets.  
“Didn’t think you’d see me again, did you, Sammy baby? I’m not so easy to kill. Now I’ve got a second chance and I’ve never been better, babe!”  
“I said stand down,” the woman repeated flatly.  
“Relax, babe. I can take him.” He drew the sword on his back, giving it a few test swings as Jack drew his gun, aiming it at the center of Scaramouche’s chest. Suddenly, the robot grabbed his head, the sword falling harmlessly to the ground, followed shortly by the robot himself.  
“Uhh, babe! Stop!” he moaned out, rolling to his side and bringing his knees up to his chest. Jack cast a glance at the woman. He saw her left hand move slightly within the confines of her pocket. Slowly, the robot regained his composure, dragging back to his feet. He sheathed his sword and shook his head violently.  
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. We’re still … working things out.” Scaramouche had retreated, still caressing his head with one hand as he muttered under his breath. “The name’s Neliah.”  
“Jack.” He cast an eye around their campsite. He had seen their campfire as he was traveling, leaving his bike to investigate on foot. As he had drawn near, he heard the familiar voice of Scaramouche, whom he thought thoroughly destroyed.  
“Nice to meet you in person. Only heard terrible things about you, of course.” She shuffled closer to the campfire, rotating the meat on the spit.  
“Why don’t you ask him to stay, babe? I’m sure he’d love to hear all the things you’ve done. Like all the people you’ve hurt and all the weapons you’ve helped make. Makes me look like a kitten, babe.”  
“You are welcome to share some of our rations, if you’d like.” Jack accepted the invitation, if only out of fear the robot would get out of hand. He took a seat several feet away from Neliah, listening to the fat sizzle on the plump rodent cooking.  
“I needed fire power. That’s why I put him back together, if you were wondering.” Jack cast another glance towards the robot who had begun pacing by the tent.  
“Won’t let me kill anything, Sammy baby. Can’t see why she wants to torment me.” He tapped his head and forced a look of mock sadness.  
“I added a few safety precautions until I can do a full reboot and remove the assassin program.”  
“Nothing to remove, babe. I was made this way.”  
“What are you planning?” Jack’s hand inched towards his gun as Scaramouche finally meandered closer to the fire.  
“I’m tracking the beetle drones manufacturing plants. The largest one is said to be out this way.” She pointed towards the east. “I only have a general location. We’re going to destroy it to slow down production in addition to destroying their newest weapon creation. There have been rumors circulating that there’s a new mind controlling device in production which could potentially work on robots and humans. If it gets completed, that will give Aku or anyone who gets there hand on it unlimited soldiers. They’ll be soulless shells that follow his every whim.”  
“Wouldn’t you know, babe? Must have been fun making the prototype,” Scaramouche laid on his chest, feeding anything that would burn into the fire.  
“I don’t have the power or resources to do it on my own. There are a few towns between here and there, so I was hoping to gather some materials to make some explosives.” Neliah took the roast off, offering it to Jack so he could take half. After he pulled off a portion, Neliah took the stick back, tearing chunks off with her teeth.  
“It’ll still be just you, babe, on your little quest for redemption. They’ll see Aku’s most favorite assassin,” he proudly gestured to himself, “and call me a hero when I tell them of your plan. Besides, what’s to motivate me? I might just stand there and take in the scenery as they pummel your body full of bullets.”  
“How far along is production on the weapon?” Jack posed hesitantly.  
“They’re supposedly testing in the next month.”  
“And how far away is the factory?”  
“I don’t know. I’m guessing a week, maybe a week and a half.”  
“I would be willing to join you to destroy the factory.”  
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The sun stabbed them in the eyes as they crossed the empty plains. Jack felt more on edge, having only had two hours of sleep. The robot talked all night, mostly degrading Neliah, only stopping when one of the plates used to piece him back together came undone and Neliah forced him into stasis to make the repair. She mentioned that she could wake him, but Jack did not protest when she decided to let his system cool down for a few hours. Still, Jack slept fitfully, not knowing enough about Neliah to trust her, but fearing the worst if he left. Scaramouche was deadly, and Jack knew all he would have to do is sneak up on her and steal the device that was keeping him at bay.  
Pacing Neliah on her own bike, he kept his eyes on Scaramouche. The robot was chained to the back seat at Jack’s demand, yelling over the motor. Jack thought he looked bored. Occasionally, they would meet eyes, Scaramouche making lewd gestures or giving him bedroom eyes. Jack came to appreciate Neliah’s patience. In the distance, a town finally appeared on the horizon. Jack watched as Neliah angled towards it. They came to a stop on the outskirts.  
“Desolate. Looks like the beetle drones ravaged this place. There’s no carnage. Not much of anything.” Neliah had dismounted, staring down the baron streets. The buildings were still standing, although they looked wind buffeted and unused. Scaramouche had already begun strolling down the main street as soon as Neliah freed him, commenting the he would have done better, especially with his tuning sword.  
“Good thing he lost it,” Neliah turned to Jack, giving him a wink before she followed after the robot. Jack kept pace with her, forcing himself to take smaller steps so as not to overpass her.  
“You can go on ahead. I’m a bit on the slow side. Bad joints and such.” Jack nodded, trailing the robot, who periodically swept inside a building to explore the interiors. After two hours of wondering, and countless complaints of the humans taking too long, they returned to the entrance empty handed.  
They traveled east again, the sun at their backs. The beginning of another forest provided the camping location for the night. Even with Scaramouche’s constant chattering, Jack managed to catch a few creatures to feast on. Neliah pulled out a can of oil from her bike, which Scaramouche scarfed down in seconds. Crumpling the can when it was drained, he threw it at Neliah as she began cooking. He flashed Jack a grin, pacing the perimeter of their campsite. Scaramouche bored of talking to himself after an hour, taking a seat next to Neliah.  
“What’s wrong, Sammy baby? Do I make you nervous? Do I make your skin crawl?” Jack eased his hand from the gun hoister, slowly chewing on the roast as he kept his eyes on the robot. Scaramouche’s grin split across his whole face. Faster than Jack could get to his feet, Scaramouche had grabbed Neliah’s left arm, flinging her away a few feet. He was on top of her, tearing at her pocket and rolling away.  
“How stupid can you be, babe?” he laughed, holding up a small remote to show off his spoils. “You thought a little shock collar could keep me at bay?” The remote was crushed in his massive hand, the pieces crumbling without any repercussions to him. Neliah had risen to her feet. Jack had drawn his gun again, taking a few steps towards the robot. He noticed that Neliah had her left hand facing him, as if requesting him to stay still.  
“You don’t want to do this.”  
“Oh, trust me, babe, I’ve been waiting for days for this opportunity. You thought that Jack here would protect you and you let your guard down. I’m going to enjoy this, babe. Au revior.” He drew his sword again, not an ounce of hesitation as he stepped forward. The sword was raised above his head as he prepared to strike the killing blow. His face went blank, the blue eyes vanishing as his mouth opened in surprise. A black substance began leaking over his lower lips before he began to scream.  
Neliah walked over to his fallen form, pulling a device from her back pocket, which she touched to his temples.  
“I’m sorry. I had to incorporate a failsafe should the remote be destroyed. Unfortunately, I cannot control the duration of the pain on this one. It will fade when you stop attempting to murder a sentient creature.” The device in her hand seemed to help, as Scaramouche stopped convulsing so wildly, his cries of pain fading a notch.  
“I don’t want this, babe.” His voice had lost the arrogant edge Jack was used to. “I don’t want to be like this.”  
“I know,” she sighed, “I know, Scaramouche. When we finish the mission, we’ll find a lab and I’ll remove the fail safe and give you a full reset. I’ll take out the assassin coding, too.”  
“So I can do what I want, babe?”  
“Yes, I’ll let you make your own choices. I promise.” A wave of the black burnt smelling substances tumbled of his lips again as he let out another cry.  
“Please. Please … make it stop, babe.”  
“I’ll put you back in stasis. Keep fighting the impulse.” Making some adjustments to the tool, she touched it to his temple again, the whining of the machine and his pained cries fading. She brushed the dirt from her clothing and returned to her seat by the fire.  
“Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little startled. Glad to see the failsafe works.” She let out a hollow laugh rubbing her own temple with her hand.  
“Why did he sound so different?  
“It’s the original coding coming through. The assassination program seems to falter when he’s in severe pain. It doesn’t last though. He’ll be back to the new normal in the morning.”  
“He’s still a murderer.” Neliah sighed, letting out another shaky laugh.  
“He’s the only family I have left.”  
“And you put him back together.”  
“I know. He can’t control the programming, but it’s no excuse. I’d say I feel guilty, but that’s only half the truth. I’m no better than him.” They picked at the remnants of dinner as the stars drifted lazily across the sky.  
“What do you mean by saying he’s your family? Did you build him?” Jack couldn’t help the accusatory note that was creeping into his voice.  
“I helped, yes. I guess it was … twenty years ago, give or take. I was about ten. Not really old enough to be a lab assistant, but I was anyway. My family’s been building robots for years. My grandmother perfected the personality chip with the first successful usage in X-49. My father started working on the next phase.”  
“They worked for years trying to build a circuit board that would allow robots to feel pleasure and pain. The theory was that it would create a reward and punishment system. Except they had trouble creating a motherboard strong enough. They fried so many machines trying to induce basic physical pain and pleasure. Finally, they built Scaramouche.”  
“His circuits held up to the initial pleasure test, something that the others hadn’t. For a while, I guess it was nice for him. They’d experiment for hours, inducing simple pleasures. A hug, gentle currents of electricity, stuff like that, although I’m sure it became … more erotic later on. My father was … well, eccentric’s putting it nice. I was spared this viewing, thankfully. Then the second half of the experiments began after about six years.”  
“Pain,” Jack guessed. Neliah nodded slowly, casting an eye to make sure the robot was still asleep.  
“It changed him. I used to know him before, and he was alright. A little too talkative, a little too hands on, but he wasn’t like this. Every day, for twelve years, the house would be filled with his screaming and pleas. They would leave him strapped into a table for days on end, administering different types of shocks and recording the results to build others like him.”  
“Why not just leave out the pain?”  
“Because you don’t learn if there’s no pain. You can’t get better without it,” Neliah whispered, tilting her head down. “So they tortured him, or worse, took him from one extreme to the other to see how he faired. When they gathered enough data, he was so resigned. This eight foot tall powerhouse was reduced to nothing but sulking the halls and trying to avoid everything. Eventually, they reprogrammed him, repressing the original coding and adding a killer’s instinct.”  
“Are there others like him?” Jack demanded.  
“No. That was my first act of rebellion. I destroyed the research. They never have and never will make another one like him.”  
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Jack must have looked exasperated, as Neliah mouthed the words “I’m sorry” the first time they made eye contact. Scaramouche had reverted back to the way Jack had always known, but seemed more content to push the boundaries a bit. He made nastier comments, came a little too close for Jack’s comfort, and was generally annoying. Neither human said anything, as it only seemed to provoke him further when they requested him to calm down.  
“Are we ever leaving, babe, or should I just sit down and rust to death?” He plopped down next to Neliah as she ate breakfast. “Or are you waiting for a little something special to start your day?” The robot started to lean towards her, his waist inching to a forty degree angle with the ground as his head rested on her shoulder. “Although I don’t mind watching if you like Jack better than me, babe. Don’t see how you would like the ragged beard, though.”  
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m ready to head out.”  
“You’re missing out, babe,” he hinted with a sneer. Neliah leaned forward, letting the rest of Scaramouche’s weight pull him towards the ground. He snarled as he sat up, beating the dirt from his side. “That was cold, babe.”  
The day was uneventful. Jack wondered if they were even heading in the right direction as the crossed the endlessly repeating terrain. The worry about Scaramouche overpowering Neliah also weighed in his mind. She had no defenses against him. All three were well aware of the fact, although Neliah did not seem too concerned. She casually drove, one hand on the handlebars, one tucked in her pocket, hardly a care tainting her expression. Even Scaramouche leaning on her shoulder and running his metal tongue down her neck did not faze her.  
They stopped for the night, Scaramouche volunteering Neliah to gather the firewood. Jack set up the tents as Scaramouche reclined against a tree. He periodically shouted out some orders, quite content to not lift a finger. Neliah made several trips, dropping off an armful at a time.  
“Could you move any slower, babe?”  
“If you want to eat, there’s oil in the side compartment. No need to wait for us.”  
“Poor Sammy baby is wasting away to nothing!” Jack scowled into the small fire he had started, warming his hands as the blaze grew. Neliah was coming back with the fourth load when Scaramouche started following her. He planted a solid kick square on her back, forcing her forwards onto the small load she had collected. Jack jerked his head towards them, waiting for the pain to overtake Scaramouche.  
Nothing happened.  
Jack was slightly overwhelmed. He was fairly sure he was competent to deal with one or the other, but was struggling with both. Neliah woke up, immediately dragging herself to the edge of camp where she was violently sick. Scaramouche had made his way over to watch, close enough to laugh at her discomfort, but far enough to keep his shoes clean.  
“What’s the matter, babe? Got a little case of morning sickness?”  
“Might be food poisoning,” she got out between waves.  
“Uh-huh. Sure, babe. You keep telling yourself that. Jack ate the same thing as you.” He cast a glance down at Jack, his eyes lighting up a shade brighter as he realized who had done the cooking. A scalding laugh erupted from him.  
“Oh ho ho, babe,” he belted out a laugh. “Seems like Sammy baby doesn’t like you either! He already killed me once, and now he’s trying to off you!”  
“You didn’t look well last night,” Jack commented softly. “You were trembling all night. Perhaps we should rest today.”  
“Oh no! I don’t think so, babe,” Scaramouche growled. “I am not sitting all day in the middle of nowhere. It’s already been a week that I’ve had to endure her insufferable company.”  
“He’s right. We should keep pressing forward. We don’t have the luxury of waiting.” Jack glared at the robot as Scaramouche beamed. After a light breakfast, they were on their way again.  
Jack noticed the black line on the horizon first. He motioned for Neliah to stop. With a nod, Neliah understood.  
“Beetle drones. Well, maybe it means we’re getting close. Looks like it’s your time to shine,” she elbowed Scaramouche.  
“Ah, but you forgot, babe. I can’t kill anything. Guess I’ll just sit this one out. You can borrow my sword,” he smirked.  
“I said you can’t kill sentiment creatures. These have no feelings. They just move forward, destroying everything in their path. You can destroy these.” A knot formed in Jack’s stomach at the sight of the devilish grin.  
“Unchain me, babe.” They continued on to the line of approaching drones. Scaramouche dismounted with a graceful leap towards the drones. Swiftly, he began running towards the approaching ranks, sword leading the way. Neliah pulled to a stop, pulling her own gun from a compartment under the bike seat.  
“Can’t say I’ll be much use, but I’ll take care of the stragglers.” Jack took his own electric staff, powering it up before riding in behind the carnage Scaramouche left in his wake. He took out the ones that challenged him, noticing that the line was converging into a circle around him and Scaramouche. After a few minutes, he pulled out, noticing the ranks were significantly less in number. He could not deny that Scaramouche’s tactics were efficient. The robot would not let himself be surrounded, jumping high in the air and using the beetle drones as spring boards. He would take out several at a time with a single swing of his sword. Jack backed out to where Neliah had remained parked. She placed a well-aimed bullet through a few that strayed from the group, mostly watching.  
As the number diminished to the last twenty, the humans watched as Scaramouche taunted the last few. He’d let them get close, hacking off only a leg or two before he would jump away unscratched. He strolled back, swinging his sword absentmindedly when the last drone had fallen. The blue eyes bore into Jack, seeming a little bit brighter and a lot more reckless.  
Scaramouche’s boasting did not last long when they reached the new campsite. He began walking erratically, nearly dragging his right leg when he took a step. At first Jack thought he was merely mocking Neliah again until he heard the change in tone of voice. He was still bragging about his success, but it was losing the edge rapidly. He dropped the fire wood he was collecting, slowly lowering himself to the ground.  
“Help, babe. Help … me.” Kneeling, he looked over to Neliah, his metal lips trembling. She came over, her limp more visible as she tried to move faster.  
“On your back. Jack, can you bring me the medical kit under the bike seat?” Both men complied, and Neliah undid Scaramouche’s belt, pulling his coat open. Jack returned with the medical kit, taking a step back in surprise as he saw just how human Scaramouche looked.  
“What’s wrong, babe? You want a piece of me?” Scaramouche laughed, the harsh noise cutting off suddenly as a confused look crossed his face. “Sorry … no.” Getting over the momentary distraction, Jack’s eyes moved to the root cause of the problem. The plates holding the leg in place had started warping, the leg separating unnaturally from the hip piece. Wires were visible, sparking periodically.  
“I’m going to leave you awake for this, because I want to make sure you can still move your leg when I’m done. I’d hate to patch it and have to rip the patch out later.” Scaramouche started to groan something angrily, but snapped his jaw closed and nodded.  
“Jack, if you could hold the joint together,” she gestured to the two places she wanted pressed together, “Watch the sparking. It’ll probably hurt you move than it’s already hurting him.” Jack complied, turning his head away in embarrassment. The soldering tool brought a harsh cry from Scaramouche when it made contact, but he stifled them as Neliah realigned the plates and added a third to secure them.  
“Alright, see if you can still move your leg.” Scaramouche lifted his right leg off the ground, rotating his foot to make sure all the circuits still functioned. “Good. I’m going to bolt these on. It’s going to hurt, but it’ll just take a minute.” The robot nodded, the blue fading as he closed his eyes. Neliah took another tool from the kit, giving one last warning before she bolted the corners of the new plate.  
Jack found himself wincing with Scaramouche’s yelps. True to her word, Neliah had finished within a minute, putting the tools back in the box. Scaramouche’s hands were balled into fists, a thin trail of the black and burnt oil sliding out the corner of his mouth.  
“Can you still move your leg?” The robot did not answer nor move. Finally, he raised his leg a couple of inches off the ground before letting it fall. Neliah sighed in relief, pulling his coat closed and securing the belt. She crawled over to his head, finally letting him drift into stasis.  
Scaramouche came to a few hours later, raining insults on Neliah’s repairing skills. After four hours of not receiving a single comment in return, he finally bored, laying down by the fire. He was feeding twigs into the flame, but would pull them out and flick the burning pieces towards Neliah. When even that failed to bring about a satisfactory reaction, he rolled away and laid down next to the bikes, still muttering.  
“We should probably get some sleep,” Neliah suggested. Jack glanced at her, noticing she was trembling again.  
“I have an extra blanket if you need one.”  
“Oh no, I’m fine. Probably just a little worn out.” They wandered over to their respective tents. Jack did not sleep. The silence was too troublesome, considering Scaramouche was not currently in stasis. He could even hear Neliah’s deep breathing in the tent next to his after an hour. It was not too much longer until his suspicions were confirmed.  
A wave of night birds fluttered away from their location. Scaramouche’s cry of pain reverberated around the woods as Jack bolted from the tent. The robot was still near the bikes, the control panel on Jack’s bike now sitting on the ground. Several tools lay nearby, now useless as Scaramouche could barely control his body.  
“Two minutes. You need to think about what you’ve done,” Neliah called out. Scaramouche screamed for help, eyes appearing to flicker wildly as he tried to focus on anything. After the two minutes were up, Neliah made an appearance, kneeling by his head, the trusty tool in hand. She started by lessening the pain.  
“Even if you’re not directly trying to kill someone, the failsafe will activate if it’s your intention,” she explained softly. The robot was begging for it to stop, even begging for death. Neliah increased the power, cutting the pain significantly as the pleas silenced, only broken by the occasional moan.  
“Will you still fix me when we destroy the plant, babe?”  
“Yes. I promised I would.” Scaramouche went to say something else, instead divulging a mouthful of the black oil. He turned his head to the side as the foul liquid ran out of his mouth.  
“Do you trust me, babe? Do you trust what I’ll do?”  
“I trust the old you.” This seemed to quell the robot for the moment.  
“Please make it stop, babe. I won’t … I won’t sabotage the bikes again.” Neliah agreed, putting him into stasis again. She stood slowly, wavering as she finally got to her feet.  
“Are you sure you’re alright?”  
“Yeah, just tired. Not to sound too spoiled, but I do miss having a bed.”  
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It was a mistake the second the words left his mouth. All parties knew it.  
“Leave her alone.” There was dead silence for three long seconds before the robot cackled.  
“So you’re the father, Sammy baby! You’ve fallen low!” Neliah had finally gotten ahold of herself, fighting down the next wave of nausea as she took the water Jack offered.  
“You did kind of walk into that one,” she mumbled as Scaramouche continued his taunting. They headed out after a rushed breakfast, the motor drowning out Scaramouche for the most part. Neliah started veering left, towards another town that had popped up on the horizon. Like the other town, the streets were desolate.  
“Is this Alnicomaodd?” Neliah tried to make out the worn letters by the front gate. “If so, this is an old mining town. There’s bound to be some good explosives here.” They spread out, Scaramouche heading to the far end of town, Jack taking a middle section, and Neliah looking at the nearby buildings. They worked towards the center of town. Scaramouche approached them with a box in his hand and a smile on his face.  
“Boom, babe. I found the dynamite.” He sat the box on the ground gently, opening the lid and showing it with a sweep of his hand. Neliah peered in, noting they were still in the protective packaging so the ride would not jostle them and set off the explosives.  
“I’ll carry them back to the bikes,” Jack volunteered quickly.  
“What’s wrong, Sammy baby? Scared I might drop them?” Scaramouche backed away though, letting Jack take the box. The three headed back to the bikes. Scaramouche would walk a few buildings ahead, and then circle back, offering his version of encouragements. Jack noticed that Scaramouche had slowed down to Neliah’s pace. He too slowed down, should another conflict arise.  
“They’ll have the weapons and the next model at this rate, babe. Allow me to help.” He grabbed her right wrist and went to pull her forward. His hand curled into a fist, the back of Neliah’s hand falling unnaturally against his. Scaramouche stopped walking, his features confused. Jack eye’s darted back from the snapped wrist to Neliah’s blank expression. Rather than just releasing her arm, Scaramouche pulled it straight up slowly. At the height, he rotated it unnaturally, finding no resistance.  
“Would you kindly release my sleeve?” Scaramouche opened his fist, watching as the material feel straight down. Neliah used her left hand to tuck the fingers of the glove at the end of her right sleeve back into her pocket.  
“Babe, where’s your arm?”  
“Got infected, so I had to remove it.”  
“When, babe?”  
“Couple months ago.” Neliah continued walking, finally catching up a few steps to Jack. He turned back in the direction he was walking after casting one last look at Scaramouche who still had not moved. The two walked slowly, finally hearing the mechanical noises of Scaramouche as he caught up behind them. Scaramouche grabbed Neliah’s waist and tossed her effortlessly over his shoulder. He made an offhand comment about her still taking too long, but his concentration was elsewhere.  
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“What’s this, babe?” Jack watched as Scaramouche wrenched something small out of Neliah’s hand. Even with her arm extended, she could not reach to the top of his head, let alone whatever Scaramouche held above his head. Uninterested in her demands, he glanced up, reading off the label of the pill bottle.  
“Oxyquartines. Wow, babe! How’d you manage to get the good stuff? Take two by mouth per day? Nobody takes that much, babe. How’s it going to impact yours and Jack’s child?”  
“Give it back!”  
“Aw, are you in pain, babe? These aren’t even yours, unless you changed you name, thief.”  
“I had to use an assumed name. I can’t really waltz in anywhere using my real name, now can I? They’re no use to you anyway.”  
“I might feel a little something if I grind them up and mix them with my oil. Might dull the pain that you love to put me in, babe.”  
“Please, Scaramouche, please return them.” Jack watched as satisfaction flashed across the robot’s face.  
“Are you begging me, babe? You’re not very good at it.”  
“Yes,” she conceded, “I’m begging you. I need them.” He had lowered the bottle so it was just inches above her fingertips.  
“Begging’s done on your knees, babe.” Jack’s hand was on the gun handle. He was not sure where he intended to step in, but if it was going on the path he thought, then he planned to make his move soon. Neliah slowly went down to her knees, leaning her head against the hip joint they had repaired. Her eyes remained glued to the ground.  
“Please give them back.” Scaramouche let out a harsh laugh, finally lowering his arm.  
“You’re probably right, babe. Can’t use them anyway.” He casually tossed the bottle a few feet away, which Neliah went scrambling after. Jack assumed she took one, trying to better secure the bottle in an inside jacket pocket. She sat with her back against a tree, bringing her knees up to her chest and burying her head with her remaining arm. Scaramouche gave them ten minutes of peace to finish breakfast before he began rushing them. Neliah made her way over, blocked by Jack on her way to the bikes.  
“Are you –”  
“Fine. Yes, I’m fine. Never better.” She brushed past him, not even bothering to put the chains on Scaramouche as she mounted and headed east. Jack was sure to keep an eye on them, hardly watching the landscape. Both were hard to read, Scaramouche almost looking contemplative while Neliah had kept her expression even, still masterfully driving with one arm.  
They drove all day, but the trees were sparse as the sun lengthened their shadows. Even as it grew dark, they pressed on. Jack was a bit nervous watching the pair. Neliah’s bike would waver a bit on the trek. After a while, he felt her glare piercing through him and kept his eyes forward. A sigh of relief escaped him as another town finally appeared on the horizon. They gunned towards it, two dust clouds trailing them.  
“I’ve been here, before,” Jack murmured. The feeling of returning to an old battle ground haunted him as they each took a flashlight and went to see if there was a secure building to rest in for the night.  
“That looks like a lab, babe.” Scaramouche pointed at the round building. He hauled her off her feet and over his shoulder as he headed in the direction, Jack needing to run to match the pace. Kicking down the door, Scaramouche let himself inside, groaning as he saw the interior was mostly destroyed.  
“Exdor’s old lab!” Jack finally realized.  
“You know Exdor?” Neliah’s demeanor perked a bit. “Well, knew him, at least. He’s been dead a few years.”  
“It’s been a long time, but I knew him. He helped me destroy the Ultra-bots.”  
“Kind of liked him, myself,” Neliah smiled, talking over Scaramouche’s comments. “Started working against Aku. He was a legend. Wished I had gotten a chance to meet him.”  
“Let’s go, babe. This place is useless.”  
“Now, now. Don’t be so hasty. You know how scientists like to have their back up lab.” Scaramouche froze in his trek back to the door. He dropped Neliah, hurrying to the perimeter to start looking for a secret door. Neliah made her way back to Jack. He saw the dilating of her pupil, but could not make it as she stumbled over something and hit the ground.  
“Found it.” Scaramouche was over in a second, on his knees searching for a way to get the trapdoor open. He found a handle, jerking it up only for it to break off in his hands.  
“Maybe there’s a key, or we –” Jack’s suggestions were interrupted as Scaramouche got a hand hold and ripped the entire door off of its hinges, flinging it behind him. He jumped down the stairs, Neliah and Jack wincing as his metal body bounced off the narrow walls with loud, metallic thuds. Both headed down the stairs carefully, ducking under the low archway.  
“It’s got all the amenities, babe,” Scaramouche called up, notably excited. Jack entered the hollowed out room, shielding his eyes as Scaramouche shown the beam in his face. All sorts of tools he did not recognize lined the walls, pieces of metal, nuts, bolts, and screws littering the floor.  
“Does the generator work?” Neliah posed the question as she took the last step. Scaramouche wondered over to the far side, looking at the control panel. He pressed a few buttons and pulled some levers, but the machine stayed quiet. Knocking on the fuel tank produced a hollow noise.  
“So we’ll keep our eyes open for fuel in our travels.”  
“There might be something in town, babe.”  
“Feel free to look around, but I’m not taking out the fail safes until after we destroy the plant. That was the deal.” Scaramouche growled about that not being fair, instantly snapping his mouth shut when Neliah suggested that she did not have to perform the procedure at all if he did not want to wait. He slunk back up the stairs, heading out in search of fuel.  
“Should we go back up to ground level to sleep?”  
“Here’s fine. He can’t block the exit without the fail safes activating.” She found some folded up blankets, tossing one to Jack before spreading the other on the desk. “Besides, we might actually get a little sleep if he spends all night looking for fuel. He’ll be looking a while since he didn’t even see the extra containers under the desk.”  
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“It’s almost noon. Let’s go, babe!” Scaramouche dropped his armful of metal objects before sweeping his flashlight around the darkened lab.  
“Noon? I feel like I’ve only slept for a few hours.”  
“Too bad, babe. Here, I found this.” He picked up one of the cans and hurled it at her. She let it hit her chest with a dull thud and a groan. Finding a flash light, she looked at the can.  
“This expired like ten years ago. Thanks, though.” In the darkness, Jack watched as Scaramouche rolled his eyes, unable to see the rest of his expression.  
“What about this one, babe? Or this one?” he threw can after can at her. She shielded her face, letting them hit her or the wall. After five or six, he stopped, nudging the pile of metal to see if there were other consumable goods among the partial cans of fuel.  
“This ones probably okay,” Neliah popped open the lid, sniffing the contents. “Yeah, this is good. Thanks, Scaramouche.”  
“Good, let’s go, babe.” Neliah found another can which had not yet expired, tossing it to Jack. He opened it, taking an exploratory sniff and gagging.  
“It smells bad, but the taste is pretty good.” Jack took a bite.  
“What is it?” The texture was slimy, but tasted like a combination of beans and poultry.  
“You don’t want to know.” Scaramouche had marched up the stairs, impatiently tapping his feet at the top. They ate, Jack leading the way up the stairs.  
“The sun’s barely up,” Neliah remarked, glaring at Scaramouche.  
“My bad, babe. I can’t tell time.” A knowing grin spread across his face as he led the way to the motorcycle, grabbing Neliah on the way. Jack wished that he would stop throwing Neliah to the ground when they reached the destination, but held his tongue. Scaramouche sat in the driver’s seat, hands on the handle bars.  
“As much as you want it, I’m not riding in your lap, so slide back.”  
“You’re making me motion sick, babe. And you drive too slowly.” Jack hoped his face didn’t show the disappointment when Neliah did not protest. She grabbed his waist and hauled herself on behind him. Scaramouche drove significantly faster, and Jack hoped his bike would be able to keep up. He glanced over to see how Neliah was faring. The robot was shouting, although Jack couldn’t make it out. Neliah met his eyes, nodding towards Scaramouche and rolling her eyes.  
The manufacturing plant did not reach up to the stars, but it might have stretched around the world as far as Jack could tell. Neliah was explaining the layout of the plant, describing their best route to get to the main machines in the center of the building and start the destruction there. The ends were mainly holding facilities for the drones to send out in batches.  
“The longer we can go without setting off the alarms, the better. They’ll have every beetle drone on us if we do. Doesn’t matter if they’re half built or fully functioning. We get the dynamite into the machines, set the fuses, and then we have two minutes to get out.”  
“Easy, babe. Watch the motorcycles.”  
“I’m coming in with you both.” Scaramouche’s protests were louder than Jack’s, so she addressed them first.  
“While I appreciate your selfish concerns, how are you going to turn the machines off while fighting off the drones and manufacturers? If you don’t, you’ll never get the dynamite inside safely.” His face fell.  
“How do you except to shut the machines off, babe? You can’t just waltz in any better than we can. In fact, it’s probably worse than us, babe.”  
“I’ve worked on them before. I’ve also destroyed them. I know how they function. Why do you think I’m running us through the control room rather than just barging in the front door? There’s less alarms and we can move a little slower. If we can take the control room, we can put the emergency locks on the holding locations so we only have to deal with a few. You two can hold them off, and I’ll get the machines stopped. I’ll expect you to get me on the way out if you want me alive.” Scaramouche made a last scathing remark before he took the box of dynamite from Jack’s bike and headed towards the building. Neliah assured them security videos were not used, since it was in such a remote location. Mounting the building in two easy leaps, Scaramouche left the box on the roof as he came back to collect Neliah. Jack followed them up. As Neliah has explained, they found the roof access, Scaramouche leading the way as Jack carried the box, Neliah walking behind him, gun in hand. Scaramouche destroyed the simple hall monitors. Each time one appeared and was destroyed, the three would freeze and wait thirty seconds to see if an alarm had been activated.  
They reached the hall leading to the control room. Scaramouche peered around the corner, declared the hall empty and kept going. He reached the entrance to the control room first, tilting his head as he looked in. Letting out a harsh laugh, he proudly declared it was empty.  
“No. They wouldn’t do that.” Neliah walked past Jack, who had set the box down to rest a moment.  
“Well, looks like you were wrong, babe,” Scaramouche scoffed, gesturing to the room as Neliah approached. She stepped to the far wall, glancing at an angle at the doorway.  
“Get away! It’s a –” Neliah jumped backwards as metal arms stretched out and latched onto Scaramouche’s arms and waist. His eyes were wide as he looked back for help before being pulled into the room.  
“Guard the box!” Jack demanded as he sprinted past Neliah, his own gun drawn. He starred into the room, seeing it empty. The hologram shimmered as the next set of arms reached out. Jack side stepped them, rolling into the room. Immediately, his gun exploded in his hand with a beam of energy.  
“What a trio! A rogue assassin, a fallen scientist, and a mad samurai. I’m not quite sure which of you is worse.” Before Jack stood a tall robot dressed in a green suit with gold trim. Although not quite as tall as Scaramouche, he was a foot taller than Jack and twice as wide. His left hand had been forced into Scaramouche’s chest, oil dripping down his arm from the four finger holes he had punctured through the metal chest plate. Scaramouche writhed against his bindings, teeth clenched as he refused to vocalize the pain the other robot was causing.  
“I thought about sending the drones in after you all as you destroyed my security bots, but I knew you were headed this way. It’s much more fun to finish you off in person. I’ll be back for you, Neliah!” Keeping the gun trained on Jack’s chest, he removed his fingers from Scaramouche and touched a button on the control panel behind him. The door latched shut.  
“So who wants to die first?” He shoved his fingers back into Scaramouche’s chest. Scaramouche’s sagging frame tensed up again. Although his eyes were open only slits, Jack could tell they were becoming dull.  
“I’m … on your … side, Voltiare, babe.” Scaramouche choked out.  
“Is that so? Then you would have already disposed of the Samurai.” Scaramouche was trying to explain the failsafe, but couldn’t get the words out. What few words he managed made it clear the pain was overriding the assassination code again.  
“I think I’ll start with you. You were only good as a punching bag, anyway. I don’t know why Neliah took any pity on you. I would have scrapped you like the good doctor’s original plan once research was complete, but she begged for you to be spared. Probably converting you into an assassin was not the idea she had in mind, although she paid dearly for her interruptions. Such a pity all the results were lost.” Jack held his ground, discreetly trying to glance around the room for anything he could use to his advantage. The green clad robot watched him intently, not even looking at Scaramouche as he tortured him.  
“So tell me, Jack? What made you stoop to working with two murderers? Surely you don’t condone that kind of behavior.” Jack said nothing.  
“Ah, or do you not know about Neliah? She used to be a force to be reckoned with, although I’m quite surprised she’s still alive. I was lucky to land a job here before she snapped. Left the Xander family lab in ruins. All the work of generations past: gone. All the new inventions and new models: destroyed. Her family: dead.”  
“I suppose that’s better for you, though. She took out Aku’s leading scientist, so now all we have left are the drone makers. They’re a bit bland, always rehashing the same thing, maybe adding a leg, making it bigger, but it’s all the same.” Jack finally trained his eyes on Scaramouche, needing to focus on something. The robots eyes had disappeared, his hat displaced to the floor from one of the times he thrashed his head. A steady stream of black oil spewed from his mouth, dripping down the front of his coat. Jack began tensing, planning to make one attempt at an attack.  
The opening door behind him was all the diversion he needed. Voltiare fired as Jack dove to the side, leaving a searing wound in his shoulder. He fired again at the opening door before his head exploded in a stream of sparks and oil. Neliah laid on the ground, breathing heavily as Voltiare’s body slowly collapsed, his hand finally sliding away from Scaramouche’s chest. Holding his right shoulder, Jack took the few steps to her, and pulled her to her feet.  
“Took a few more minutes than I hoped to get the door open.” She tucked the gun away and stared blankly at Scaramouche for a while. He did not move. Swearing under her breath, she picked up the lifeless body of Voltiare, letting it lean on her as she slid the fingers back into the hole.  
“Help me hold him up.” Jack took her spot under the body and kept the hand in position as Neliah adjusted her tool. She jammed it into the neck where his head used to be, twisting it to find the right position.  
“Please work,” she prayed, staring up at Scaramouche’s lifeless face. A faint whirring started, increasing in sound as Scaramouche moved his limbs and head slightly. He came to with a robotic gasp, spraying the black liquid over Neliah.  
“How are you feeling?” she posed. Scaramouche’s eyes appeared and he opened his mouth to speak. Instead, his body went limp again, the whirring fading.  
“No, no, no, no!” Neliah wrenched the tool to the side, the circuits in the severed head sparking at the increase of electricity. “Come on!” Scaramouche began to move again. He finally groaned, raising his head.  
“What happened, babe?”  
“This energy vampire took too much out of you. I’ve reversed what I could, but you’re going to need a recharge.” She pulled Voltiare fingers away, Jack throwing the body to the floor and exiting to get the box of dynamite secured in the room. When he returned, Neliah sealed off the door behind them, scanning the control panel for a way to free Scaramouche. She found the release. Jack helped pull his fallen body towards the control panel, Neliah assuming there would be a charge station nearby which would have satisfied Voltiare’s appetite. She discovered a few tools and opened up the top of Scaramouche’s jacket. Jack stared down at the four finger sized holes, seeing that they had gone about three inches into the metal. Neliah was working to get the movable cover plate off, struggling a bit with only one hand. She pried it up enough to attach the wires inside. Scaramouche made a strange noise between a purr and a hum, his eyes flickering rapidly as a soft smile crossed his face. She studied the holes, but determined they would not provide too much trouble until she could properly fix them.  
Neliah was scanning the monitors silently. Below them in the main room, the workers went on obliviously. She was frowning.  
“I think I can clear the room with an alarm, but it will send in the drones.”  
“It will protect them,” Jack assured her.  
“We’ll wait five minutes after I set the alarms, which will give them enough time to get out. Will you be ready in five?” She nudged Scaramouche with her foot.  
“Babe, I was ready ten minutes ago!” The confidence and arrogance had returned.  
“You were dead ten minutes ago, but okay.” She pulled the alarm, seeing the lights flash in the room below them. On the monitors, the workers fled towards the sides. Scaramouche pulled the protruding wires from his chest, reaffixing the chest plate and closing the jacket. Neliah was working to halt the mindless machines, typing in the algorithms to get them to stop. When the movement had stopped, she gestured to the windows in front of her.  
“The room’s yours.” Scaramouche dove through the glass of the control room. Standing in the shattered remains, he held out his hands and looked up. Jack took the risk. He dropped the box, holding his breath until Scaramouche caught it, dropping to a knee to prevent bring the box to a sudden stop. Jack followed him out, each taking half of the ammunition and affixing it to the machines. The first of the drones were entering the room, Neliah shooting what she could from her lookout in the control room.  
“Fuses lit, babe! Let’s get out of here!” Scaramouche jumped back to the control room, grabbing Jack’s hand when he followed and yanked him forwards. Jack led the way as Scaramouche hauled Neliah over his shoulder and took off behind him. On the roof, Jack slid to the edge, taking a deep breath before he hurled himself over. Scaramouche was behind him, hugging Neliah towards him as the first explosion rocked the building. The shockwave sent them hurtling forwards. Jack hit the ground and rolled to his feet. He glanced back. Scaramouche had used as much of his body as possible to shield Neliah, hitting the ground hard. Uncurling himself, he stood up as if unfazed, jerking Neliah back over his shoulder and running. Another explosion rocked the building, further crumbling the middle section. Stealing another glance back, Jack could see the workers hurrying out the sides, having been spared from the blast. He was pleased there was not a wave of drones hurrying after them.  
Scaramouche readjusted Neliah in front of him, speeding away on the motorcycle. Jack chased after him, finding that his bike had enough power to catch up. Scaramouche had his right arm securely across Neliah’s chest, eyes glued forward as they navigated back to Exdor’s lab. Jack could not tell if she was conscious or even alive.  
Night was falling fast when Jack finally noticed movement from Scaramouche’s passenger. She reached over to pull her right sleeve and secure it in her pocket. Scaramouche continued to hold her tightly, lest she fall at such speeds.  
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Jack could hardly keep his eyes open as they finally approached the decimated town. Not needing to sleep himself, Scaramouche kept racing through the night and the morning. They pulled to a stop in front of the lab. For once, Scaramouche sat Neliah on her feet roughly, but it still failed to produce the preferred results. Neliah crumpled to the ground.  
“I don’t think your leg is supposed to bend like that, babe.” Scaramouche nudged her foot, nearly at a ninety degree angle from her leg.  
“Thanks for your observation.” She tried forcing it back with one hand, starting to get it straight. Jack knelt beside her, swallowing the bile in his throat.  
“What can I do to help?”  
“Just grab it and twist it back into something that looks normal. I just need my shoe to be parallel with the ground.” Jack reached out, touching the mangled limb gently.  
“Please, let me know if I am hurting you.”  
“You won’t. It’s just a metal frame.”  
“Your foot too, babe?”  
“I’ve made do without.” She raised her right pants leg a bit, showing off the metal rods that were connected to the shoe. They extended further up her leg, although it was impossible to tell how far up her leg they ran. Jack adjusted the metal so her foot looked normal. She shoved herself up, taking a few experimental steps.  
“Yeah, that’s good. Thanks.” They followed her inside, Scaramouche finally taking the lead as he headed down the stairs to the lab.  
“Alright, babe. What do you need to get the failsafe out?”  
“Relax. Pull up that table and get comfortable. You’re going to be there a while.” Scaramouche rolled the table from the side and moved it to the center of the room, shining his flashlight at the ceiling to make sure he was centered under the light.  
“Should I put the fuel in the generator, babe? I’ll get it started.”  
“Just lay down.” Scaramouche halted mid-step. Without another word, he followed the order. She stepped up to his head, taking his hat off and laying it on the desk.  
“I’ll get Jack to help me with the prep. You can just enjoy a long snooze.” She touched her tool to his temple for a few seconds, putting him into stasis.  
“What do you need me to do?”  
“Nothing right now. I need sleep. As soon as I get a few good hours under my belt, I’ll get started. Here,” she passed him the tool, “If he stirs just touch it to his temple on either side and he’ll be out for another three or four hours. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt him.” She curled back up on the desk, wrapping the blanket around her.  
“Don’t wake me unless it’s an emergency.” Jack heard the pill bottle rattle a few times before she went quiet. Jack renewed the stasis three times before Neliah awoke with a groan.  
“I needed that. Did you get to sleep any?”  
“Yes, a few hours here and there.” Neliah stood and stretched, leaning under the desk to push out the extra fuel cans.  
“Let’s get the generator running and shine some light on the matter.” Jack took two of the cans and crossed the short room, pouring the fuel into the tank. Neliah stood at the controls, replicating the actions Scaramouche had taken, receiving an electric hum. The bulbs in the ceiling flickered before finally coming on, bathing the room in a pale yellow glow.  
“You don’t have to stay. Personally, I would recommend getting as far away as possible. I can get the failsafe out since I put it in, but I’ve never worked with the coding. I don’t know if I can get him back to the way he was. There’s a good chance he’ll come out exactly the same as you know him, minus the failsafe.” She gathered tools from the desk, Jack offering his hands to carry what she needed as she looked through.  
“I will stay. I do not approve of reviving a murderer, but I know you want to honor your promise.” He took the tools and laid them out on the table Scaramouche was on.  
“It’s nice to see someone understands my dilemma, too. Thanks, but I think you should still leave before the full reboot and restart. You’re the only one that can stop Aku. There’s not much more I can do to help your cause.” She touched her specialty tool to Scaramouche’s temple once more to insure he was in stasis. From the new selection, she found a tool to start removing the plates on his head.  
“You could come with me. I will make an exception for him if you can remove the assassination coding.”  
“I know he won’t want to, if all goes well. He probably just wants to do something simple, perhaps performing. I’d go, but I’ll just be deadweight.”  
“What will you do?”  
“You know, I haven’t really thought that far. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d make it this far.” She had the plates removed from the top of Scaramouche’s head. Turning her head up to the low ceiling, she let out a sigh.  
“The fun begins.” Jack watched, assisting where he could. Neliah was lost in concentration for most of the day. She had become quite adept with one hand, as far as Jack could tell, carefully rearranging wires and removing tiny parts of hardware that would be lost lest someone breathe too heavily.  
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“Alright.” Jack jumped, having been dozing in the silence. Neliah only chuckled, which morphed into a dry hack at the lack of sustenance. “Going for the reboot. Should be about three hours. Care to share one last meal with me?”  
“The offer is still available,” Jack reminded her.  
“I’m going to politely decline. We’ve already slowed you down. If I’ve managed to get rid of the assassination code, I’ll get him back to civilization so he can at least talk to someone. I’m sure I’ll find a small repair shop or something that will take me.” Now able to see, they looked through the cans Scaramouche had originally found, finding one more that Neliah deemed edible. She popped the lid off, pulling out a six inch slab of meat about an inch squared.  
“What is this?” Jack asked as she tilted her head up and ate it.  
“Canned food is a lot better if you just don’t ask questions.” Jack pulled one out, studying it for a moment. It had scales, and looked similar to a fish. A small bite assaulted his mouth with a sweet earthy tone flavor. He took another, the two finishing the can in a few minutes.  
“That was good! I am curious to know what it was.” Neliah let out a small chuckle.  
“Lung of toladipus.”  
“He’s at 95%. You need to get out of here.”  
“Will you be alright?”  
“Sure, I’ll be fine. There’s really only a few scenarios. One, he wakes up and he’s no longer an assassin. Two, he still thinks he’s an assassin, but I shoot him in the knee, knock him out, and try again. Or three, he kills me.” Jack hated the odds, but bid her farewell and good luck. He climbed the stairs, silently moving to the opposite side of the top stair when he reached the ground level and laid flat on the ground. He drew his gun, ready should Neliah’s handiwork fail. All was silent for what felt like an eternity.  
There were several small metallic clangs that sounded like the tools falling, followed by a larger thud and a robotic noise of confusion.  
“Babe?” Jack sighed, allowing a smile to cross his face.  
“I’m here. How are you?” Neliah’s voice shared the same glimmer of hope.  
“I feel like my head’s been put through the compacter, babe. It’s fading though and … there’s nothing else there. Feelin’ a little empty, babe.” There was a long pause. “But in a good way! It’s just me, babe, if that makes any sense.” Neliah responded, but Jack could not make out the words. Scaramouche’s voice dropped the next time he spoke, the entire conversation reverting to indecipherable words. Jack was about to call down to make the same offer to Scaramouche, but he heard one last phrase. The words were in French, but he picked up the word for ‘love’ before two gun shots rang out.  
Jack stifled a gasp so as not to give away his position. He resumed the stance, waiting for the robot to appear. Heart pounding in his ears, it took a while to hear the faint pleas.  
“I’m sorry, babe. I’m so sorry.” Jack was not quite sure robots could cry, but he had no other word for the strange noise drifting from the basement lab. He waited nearly ten more minutes before silently making his way around the trap door to the stairs. Peering down, he could see Scaramouche had his back to the stair well. Soundlessly, he descended.  
Scaramouche had his arms wrapped around her lifeless body, one holding her head against his chest, the other around her back. Her body had been pulled into his lap, and he rocked them both slowly, apologizing softly. The robot stopped moving when Jack touched the gun to the back of his head.  
“You killed her.” A shutter seemed to run through the robot.  
“You don’t understand, Sammy baby. She was in so much pain! Do you know how long she’s been suffering, babe?” His question was more of an accusation.  
“We could have found her help,” Jack growled, finger twitching on the trigger.  
“No, babe. There was no help. She was dying.” He gingerly brushed the hair out of her peaceful face. “No doctor could cure her. Her father tortured her with some sort of chemicals. She survived, but her body is disintegrating. Those pills she was taking … they’re what you give to someone who’s dying to make them comfortable, babe. You don’t just get those prescribed! She had a doctor friend somewhere who must have pitied her. Even if I let her live, she only has enough for one or two more days, then it’s pure agony until we find another place. But for what, babe? She had a few weeks left, at best, she said.”  
“Her arm’s gone, half her leg’s gone. You can tell her other leg’s going. She’s lucky she still had full use of one hand, babe! I mean … I’m lucky that …” he trailed off. “Her organs, too. She was falling apart in front of us, lying through her teeth, baby. She … she made sure she had enough pills to operate on me. That ‘morning sickness,’ babe? That was withdrawal when she skipped the second one for a few days. I d-didn’t even see it until … Babe, I just kept making it worse. I couldn’t stop myself! And then … she fixed me.” Jack had lowered his gun, stepping around the robot so he could see him eye to eye. Scaramouche still had his head leaning on the top of hers. Blood covered the robot’s hand on her back.  
“Did she ask you to kill her?” Jack’s voice waivered. Scaramouche shook his head.  
“I offered, babe. She would never do that to me. She … she said better me than let someone have the s-s-satisfaction.” Scaramouche let out another sob before his eyes flared open, angry.  
“She didn’t deserve this! All she ever wanted was to learn and build things. Happy things, babe! Not monsters … like me. She wasn’t like the lot of them. She wanted me to be safe … to be happy … and babe, I could have been. We were going to get away before they reprogrammed me. I wouldn’t have killed, babe, but I could wield a sword. With her sharp shooting, we could have made it. Could have, babe … and I ruined it. They told me they had wronged me, and wanted to make it up. Said they would remove the pain function and wipe my memory of it. Lies, babe. They lied to me! They just reprogrammed me, suppressing the real me with the assassin program. They let me watch as they tortured her, testing all the new chemicals. The assassin loved every minute.” Had Neliah been alive, she might have yelped at the tight squeeze Scaramouche pulled her in.  
“They sold me to Aku after a while. Said they didn’t need me anymore, babe. Not long after I left, I heard they had … well, Voltiare isn’t a liar. Sammy, baby, you gotta believe me. She was good! She wouldn’t have done it if there was another choice!” He was sobbing again, rocking gently.  
“Come on,” Jack touched his shoulder. “Let’s give her a proper burial.” He nodded, rising slowly, holding Neliah tight. He followed Jack up the stairs and into the night.  
“She would have been happier here, babe. She would … She’d have been alive still.” The last half came out bitter. Scaramouche wandered around the lab, finding a location that satisfied him as Jack went in search of a pair of shovels. He returned nearly a half hour later, finding Scaramouche on the back of the lab near a burnt tree. Neliah was still hugged against him. He glanced up when Jack stepped closer, planting a soft kiss on the top of Neliah’s head before he sat her down gently.  
They dug without speaking. When the hole was deep enough, Jack climbed out. Scaramouche stood in the pit for a few more moments. He pulled himself out, picking up Neliah, and lowering her into the fresh grave. His metal fingers brushed the hair from her face and smoothed her clothes. Jack was inclined to believe Scaramouche’s story, seeing as Neliah looked peaceful, even in death.  
“Would you … like to say any last words?” The robot shook his head. He pushed the first shovelful of dirt back into the hole, then turned and began walking away. Jack smelt the burnt oil as he hurried past, disappearing on the other side of the building.  
Jack let a single tear roll down his face as he finished the deed. He whispered a prayer over the grave, wiping the dirt from his hands as he went in search of Scaramouche.  
The robot had not gone far, sitting on the ground by the front of the lab. The black oil had left new stains on the front of his jacket along with Neliah’s blood. Jack sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.  
“Neliah said you wouldn’t want to, but you are welcome to join me.” Scaramouche let out a hollow laugh.  
“She knew me, well babe. Only one who ever did. You know why she had that little tool, babe? She made it for me, after they would experiment on me. Knew I would be better off in stasis on the nights when the pain was too bad.”  
“Is there something I can do for you?” Scaramouche just shook his head.  
“I have your other sword, if you want it back,” Jack added.  
“Keep it, Sammy baby. I won’t need it any more. Take what you want from her bike as well. I’m done, babe.” Jack waited until the sun rose before he stood and spared a last farewell. Scaramouche raised his hand in a single wave as Jack mounted his motorcycle and continued north to whatever fate awaited him.


End file.
